In a stunning announcement, several top CIA officials today verified Monday’s New York Times story that claimed that former Bon Jovi singer Jon Bon Jovi was a spy for the KGB from 1983 until 2012. The Soviet Union, as well as the famous heavy metal singer, have denied these charges but several highly placed sources within The Agency have confirmed that Bon Jovi used several of his albums to leak highly classified documents to “The Evil Empire”.
The most shocking charge was that Bon Jovi aided the Soviets in a failed 1986 plot to kidnap former President Ronald Reagan. According to a source within the agency, the song “Wanted Dead or Alive” was actually written in a code that was meant to give secret information as to the whereabouts of Reagan during his trip to Berlin in July of that year.
The verse “I’m a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride”, is actually meant to indicate that Reagan (who the Soviets codenamed “The Cowboy”) would be aboard Air Force One (the “steel horse”). Later in the song, Bon Jovi states “I’ve seen a million faces and I’ve rocked them all”. The letters to this incredibly asinine lyric actually correlate with a 1980s era KGB code that gave the time and date that Reagan would be flying over Spain. At that point, the Soviets were planning to intercept the aircraft using several skydivers who would plummet from a secret Russian space platform, land on top of the plane, board it at gunpoint and hold Reagan hostage until he agreed to give the Soviets control of the entire United States nuclear stockpile. The Soviets eventually cancelled this plan fearing it was too risky.
Bon Jovi’s spy activities did not stop after the Soviet Union’s fake collapse in the late 1980s and early 90s. He helped plant information in the media that helped convince most Americans that the Berlin Wall had fallen and that the Russians had abandoned communism.
It was on his secret visit to Russia in 1997 for a “concert” that he met another Soviet spy equally committed to the fall of the United States. This agent would eventually become one of the most powerful figures in America. His name is Barack Hussein Obama.
While Obama, a former member of the American terrorist group known as the Weather Underground, urged the Soviets to use violence in order to overthrow the government of The Greatest Nation on Earth, it was Bon Jovi who proposed a much more gradual approach. He felt that the America could be slowly destroyed from the inside by electing communist agents into positions of power. These officials, after gaining the trust of the American people, would introduce legislation designed to turn the United States into a communist dictatorship. The cornerstone of this plot was to introduce a sinister program later to be known simply as Obamacare.
Bon Jovi finally dissolved his connection to the KGB in 2012 when he caught the original version of the movie “Red Dawn” on television late one fateful night. He was so deeply moved by the courage of the brave young “Wolverines” who defeated the Russian Army that he decided it was time to come clean. He immediately revealed his crimes and, in exchange for playing a series of fundraisers for the Democratic Party during the 2012 election, was secretly pardoned by his former comrade, President Barack Hussein Obama.
Morbid Angel guitarist Trey Azagthoth has revealed himself as a brony, according to a recent interview in Revolver. When queried about his colorful new tattoos, the eccentric axeman replied, “I’ve been into Sailor Moon, Pokemon, and all kinds of anime for years, but this new My Little Pony series is the greatest thing ever. I’m totally a brony now, and proud of it!”
A brony is an adult male who has a visible preoccupation with My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, an animated show intended for girls ages 3-8. Azagthoth has recently appeared on stage with visible tattoos themed around the show, along with related t-shirts, pendants, and stickers on his guitars. “I’m definitely a Rainbow Dash guy,” he enthused, “but Fluttershy is a close second. I plan to cover both my arms with the two of them, so I’m glad I got rid of that silly inverted cross tattoo when I did!”
Azagthoth went on to explain how he plans to color coordinate his guitars with his favorite ponies, and he intimated that fans shouldn’t be surprised if pony-related themes appear on the next Morbid Angel record. The most eyebrow-raising revelation, however, was his plan to change his famous stage name.
“From now on, I’ll be known as Trey Azagclop,” he said, “but don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t actually do that. I watch the show for the plot.”
“Clopping” is a slang term among the brony community, which refers to abusing one’s self to the pony characters on the show. As for the expected response from his fan base, the newly-dubbed Azagclop seemed unworried.
“I really don’t think this will be a problem,” he mused, “Morbid Angel fans have always been open-minded. The last four albums are about nothing but Tony Robbins and Castlevania, and everyone seemed to be fine with it. David [Vincent, frontman of the band] is in full support of my choice, and I’ve even gotten him to watch the show with me a few times. I think he’s got a thing for Pinkie Pie, if you ask me.”
Morbid Angel is currently on their 20th Anniversary Covenant tour across North America.
There are many hidden pleasures in being a metalhead. That moment where you start talking to a stranger and realize he actually knows that Peter Steele was in Carnivore before he was in Type O Negative. The moment where you are at the gym and you see a person on the workout machine next to you wearing a Carcass Heartwork tee shirt. That feeling you get when you are watching a bad, 1980s made-for-television movie about high school and notice one of the extras wearing a jacket with a giant Nuclear Assault patch on the back. You’ll meet a ton of people throughout your life who think metal is nothing more than bad hairstyles, ripped up jeans and “Enter Sandman”, but that moment when you really feel the presence of another member of our bizarre little community is truly a compelling experience.
There is another type of joy that being a metalhead can produce. Very few things are as invigorating as the feeling of completely freaking out unsuspecting strangers with your music and all of the insane, preposterous imagery that surrounds it. A bunch of senior citizens walk by you in the mall. They notice you rocking that vintage Cannibal Corpse “Eaten Back To Life” shirt and quickly avert their eyes. You imagine them wandering around Sears twenty minutes later muttering about how society is in the brink of collapse and decrying the death of all that is sacred and humane.
I’ll admit, it’s a bit of a cheap thrill, but there are some days that this sort of savage and surreal amusement can fill you with a genuine zest for life. Over the years, I’ve learned how to create and actively seek out these sorts of situations. I’ve experimented with many different methods of achieving this sort of “gore-vana”, in some cases with disastrous consequences. However, the one sure-fire place I know I can count on creating a minute or two of total metal-induced awkwardness and not be forced to spend an evening in the county lock-up is at the drive-thru window at fast food restaurants.
You drive up to the window with the first track of Suffocation’s “Effigy of the Forgotten” (Liege of Inveracity) booming through your speakers. The person working there has probably spent most of the day having their humanity completely ignored or, even better, being scolded by vengeful, self-righteous morons deeply scarred by the fact that two weeks ago the Wendy’s forgot to include packets of ketchup with their Value Meal. They are in that mode we so often see in consumer cultures, where the employee is simply treading water in the hopes of surviving the low wages and disrespect that are supposed to one day connect them to that shining pot of gold that politicians and suckers like to refer to as The American Dream.
Then you come along, blasting Frank Mullen’s doglike vocals and Mike Smith’s demented blast beats. That blank stare quickly changes into an expression of total confusion. What sort of person listens to this madness on purpose? Is this person a psychopath who feeds on the blood-curdled screams of the children locked in the trunk of his car? What does this unshaven weirdo hear in this music that I can’t?
You are the great and frightening Other. The Alien. The one who awakens them from their post-capitalist, slumbering nightmare for a brief second in order that they have something to post about on Twitter before they collapse into the awful sameness of reality television and quiet rage.
Over the years, I’ve accumulated a few songs that I believe are perfect for these moments. If you are having a boring afternoon and want a little more adventure in your life, try blaring one of these the next time you are picking up a cheeseburger. (For added effect, wear corpsepaint and sing along loudly and off key)
10. Anything From Gorguts-Obscura. I say anything because, as much as I love that album, I have no idea of the difference between any of the songs. (This also applies to most pre-2000s black metal)
9. Vader-Decapitated Saints. Those fast, indecipherable vocals are great, particularly if you are able to bug your eyes out and work up one of those Charles Manson looking stares.
8. Misfits-Bullet (Before you start whining about the whole it’s not metal, it’s punk thing, please understand that I find that conversation almost absurd and pointless as listening to someone describe how to properly prepare hog maws) The lyrics from this one are bound to at least elicit a smirk from your mark. Particularly when you get to the part where he starts saying, well, you know….
7. Slayer-Altar of Sacrifice. This one is a bit tricky. It involves timing. If you can manage to have Araya bellowing “Enter To The Realm of Satan!!!” right as you are presented with your jumbo-sized Diet Coke, you will achieve maximum effect.
6. Metallica-Creeping Death. Same as above except you need to sync it up with “DIE…BY MY HAND!!!”.
5. Suffocation-Liege of Inveracity. We’ve discussed this.
4. Manowar-Black, Wind, Fire and Steel. It’s not the most intimidating song on this list by a long shot, but something about that note Eric Adams holds for a half an hour at the end of the song really works for the situation.
3. Cannibal Corpse-Hammer Smashed Face I’ve tried many different options when it comes to inducing Cannibal Corpse freakouts, but for my money, this is the one that produces the most terror.
2. Morbid Angel-Hatework Part 70s horror film score, part growl from the depths of Hell, this song has a way of leaving lasting scars on the uninitated. For years, I used the last three minutes of God of Emptiness, but this seems to make more of an impact.
1. Deicide-Dead By Dawn This song, by far, has gotten me the most perplexed, stupefied looks. Glen Benton isn’t good for much, but making some high school wage slave drop a Frosty all over the register is an area in which he excels.
Chances are, if you own a dog, you have these notions in your head about how you love your pet or how it’s part of your family. You think of your dog as your companion. What you have to understand is that the reason you think this is that you are an awful human being. A total and complete monster. You are not completely ignorant of this fact, you just happen to be engaged in a gigantic game of pretend with the entirety of our culture. I’m not going to tell you not to feel bad about it either. You are guilty of a miserable, disgraceful thing and it’s about time that people start telling you the truth, instead of letting you dance around in that little bubble that you refer to as reality.
This strange dog fantasy you are experiencing has been nurtured by the fact that our culture tends to hide its greatest cruelties under a veneer of nostalgia and manufactured love. You turn on the television and there’s another dog bouncing around with respect and great reverence for its master. You look on a Hallmark card and there’s another stupid looking dog performing some humiliating show for your entertainment. Getting its nose caught in a cookie jar or cuddling with a kitten or accidentally tracking mud on the new carpet with an “aw shucks” type dog grin. AWWWW…look at that, the dog surrendered its dignity again. Don’t you just love when it demeans itself. Isn’t that cute?
Maybe you think back to when you were young and that special animal filled you with the warm feeling of home or family or some other absurd illusion. And maybe, just maybe, the dog really did love you, too. But I doubt it. Look at it from the dog’s point of view. Its entire way of life has been annihilated. It has no freedom. No self-determination. We’ve bred all of the characteristics and will out of it and turned it into a hollow shell into which we project memories and myth. You are its ticket to survival. Better put on a hell of a show.
To the loving owner, the dog is moving, highly symbolic furniture. They are a showpiece meant to express unspoken facets of the person’s identity. Kind of like a table. In truth, it is nothing more than sick product of an insane society that revels in debasing anything that cannot speak for itself. If dogs truly understood their lot, they would bite every human they came in contact with. Of course, if they did that, they’d be exterminated immediately. No opposition to our hegemonic pet fantasy can be tolerated!
I saw a bumper sticker the other day that indicated that you should neuter your dog so that you don’t have to euthanize a bunch of other dogs in the future. A big, goofy Labrador sat on the person’s front seat. That person probably thinks of themselves as a kind, loving pet owner. I imagine they have conned themselves into thinking that these two actions are the only possibilities. But, can we seriously consider anyone compassionate who thinks that castration or genocide are the only two conceivable actions when discussing a living creature?
Whether you treat your dog well is beside the point. Maybe you let him run around outside and give him treats all the time. Maybe you scratch her belly and heap upon her massive amounts of affection. Maybe you take care of him when he is sick. None of this matters. The autonomy of a living thing is all that means anything. It has been systematically stripped of that through decades upon decades of love and adoration. We have killed its spirit with kindness. You may love it, but it has never been given the honest choice to love you back. It cannot leave or dislike you without existential peril. It is not your pet; it is your captive.
Dogs are the ultimate nightmare scenario. Life without choice. Life without will. Being paraded on a leash. Being entirely controlled and objectified. Broken, not just as an individual animal, but also as a species. Our victory over dogs is so complete that they have become our culture’s mascot. Children laugh and pull on their tail. We dress it up in sweaters and cute little outfits to impress other people. We go so far as to delude ourselves into thinking that they are our “best friends”. But, they are not. Friendship requires mutual consent from both friends. The dog has never been given the option to consent. It has been given its place and it will stay there.
The American Psychiatric Association announced today that they have classified a new mental illness known as David Coverdale’s Disorder. DCD is a disorder named for Whitesnake frontman David Coverdale, and it is characterized by a high degree of salaciousness and narcissism that can be devastating to affected individuals.
The APA has published a list of associated symptoms and encourage people who suspect they may have DCD to contact a mental health professional right away. Males 35-45 are considered the highest risk group.
- Relentless sexual arousal, regardless of the circumstances
- Uncontrollable sweating
- A hugely inflated sense of self
- Compulsive use of double entendres or innuendo
- Kissing with tongue exclusively, including family members
- Increased cheesiness
- A tendency to walk the streets at night (also associated with Dokken’s Syndrome)
- Strong attraction to torrid situations
- High saliva production
- Leathery skin
- Body odor that mimics cologne or body spray
- Excessive smugness
- A penchant for medallions
As of yet, no single course of treatment for this disorder is proven, though members of the health community expect that its effects are reduced through aging or an acrimonious split with Tawny Kitaen.